Little Boy Blue and The Man In The Moon
by Fatcat91
Summary: The song haunted him since Sam's birth. John just wished it weren't true.


**Disclaimer:** I do not own Supernatural or the song Cats in the Cradle. They are owned by Eric Kripke and Harry Chapin

**Warnings:** Swearing

**Rating:** T for Teen (All because of swearing)

**Author's Note:** I thought that this song was perfect for John and Sam's relationship. All grammar and spelling mistakes are mine. Please enjoy.

* * *

John Winchester first heard the song when Sam was being born. Mary had just gone in to labor with their second son and John was busy driving her to Lawrence Memorial Hospital. They had stopped briefly at an intersection when the song started playing on the radio.

_My child arrived just the other day  
He came to the world in the usual way  
But there were planes to catch and bills to pay  
He learned to walk while I was away  
And he was talkin' 'fore I knew it, and as he grew  
He'd say "I'm gonna be like you dad  
You know I'm gonna be like you"_

John quickly changed the station. He would never do that to his son. Right then and there he promised the unnamed babe that he would always be there, whether his son wanted him to be or not. Six months later Mary died, he packed up his two sons and moved away.

* * *

The second time he heard the song he was in an old hunting cabin that had been refurbished for the supernatural world. There were books, demon traps, silver, and lots and lots of salt. The cabin also had a small radio that could only pick up one station. Sam had just turned eight when they moved to the small cabin.

It was a nice place, the cabin. It was in the middle of a meadow with forest surrounding all of it. The only road leading to the cabin was a small dirt road off the main highway. He noticed how taken both Dean and Sam were with the place. He was lucky it was summer and he didn't have to worry about enrolling Dean and Sam in to school. He didn't even know where the closest school was.

From inside the cabin he watched as his two boys were playing hunters and ghosts. It was a game that Dean created where one of the boys was a ghost and the other had to hunt the ghost down. It was a strange version of cops and robbers. The radio was playing softly in the background as he returned to his work. His work was writing down the best way to kill the supernatural of the world.

He felt guilty as he worked away inside the cabin. He had not been the best of fathers, but the need to kill Mary's killer always seemed to precede the need to take care of his sons, especially his youngest. For whatever reason, it hurt to look or be near his youngest son. It took nearly three years and a beating from a fellow hunter before he held his youngest after the fire. Dean was easy and seemed perfectly content to replace him for Sam but deep down he knew it wasn't fair. Mary I'm sorry, John thought as he returned to the desk and started up categorizing ways to kill a ghost.

It was the soft knock at the door that peeled John from his writing. Sam was standing in the doorway looking at him.

"What is it Sam?" came his impatient question. Can't Sam see I'm busy, John thought.

"Do you want to play with me and Dean? We're playing pirates and Dean says that some one has to be Blackbeard."

"I'm busy right now Sammy. Maybe tomorrow."

"Oh okay," Sam said. John watched as Sam gave a small smile as he left the cabin to go play outside with Dean. As Sam left, the song that was in the background was the only noise he heard.

_My son turned ten just the other day  
He said, "Thanks for the ball, Dad, come on let's play  
Can you teach me to throw", I said "Not today  
I got a lot to do", he said, "That's ok"  
And he walked away but his smile never dimmed  
And said, "I'm gonna be like him, yeah  
You know I'm gonna be like him"_

With a growl, John switched off the radio and continued working on his work. He didn't need a song to tell him that he was breaking his promise. After I kill the demon, John thought, then I will be the father Dean and Sam need. I can feel that I'm almost done. With a smile on his lips, he returned to the old dusty tome he was consulting.

* * *

It was after Sam left for Stanford, when John heard the song playing in the background. He had found Sam's Stanford acceptance letter. He had been searching through Sam's stuff, looking for a silver knife when the letter fluttered down to the floor from its hiding spot. It looked official and important so John read it. He knew he should have been calmer about the whole situation but he couldn't help himself. His youngest was leaving and he would do anything to keep him safe. Maybe I should have just told him the truth. It's too late now, John thought.

It started when Sam and Dean got back from research at the library. They were hunting a coven of witches and John wanted specifics. He knew Dean hated research while Sam loved it. He thought that Dean would help Sam stick to the witches while Sam would get Dean to help with the research. John was sitting at the kitchen table holding the letter. He quickly hid the letter and hoped that Sam would confess to what he did. John waited until after dinner to tell Sam he knew about Stanford.

"So Sam when were you going to tell us?" John watched his youngest son's face. It went from confusion to worry back to confusion again.

"Tell you what dad?" came his reply. John felt his anger rising as his son continued to play dumb.

"You know what," John growled. Sam's wide eyes and confused expression just added fuel to his flames. He saw Dean stand in the doorway from the other room.

"Dad? Sam? What's going on?"

"Sam was just telling me about his acceptance letter in to Stanford." The look on Dean's face was one of surprise, betrayal, and pride. John was shocked to find that even Dean didn't know about the letter. His youngest face became pale.

"Is there something you want to share Sammy?" John sneered.

"I was going to tell you," Sam pleaded, "I just didn't know how."

"So you were planning of just leaving in the middle of a hunt?" He roared. Sam and Dean both paled.

"No dad, I just-"

"Just what Sam? You just want to abandon your family? You just want to be selfish?"

"It's just college, what's the big deal," Sam shouted back. He looked to Dean who had remained silent. John knew Sam was hoping that his older brother would back him up.

"It's a big deal when you are leaving your mother's killer out there alive," John shouted.

"You don't want me to help, you just don't want me going off and being normal. I hate this life dad, I want out. I want normal, I want to leave this life behind. I want to go to Stanford," Sam yelled. He was on his feet, in an offensive stance glaring at his father.

"Fine you can go," John said. Dean stared wide-eyed at his father while Sam started to smile. Sam looked at Dean and John could tell that Sam was thinking, "He understands. He wants me to go to college. This fight was a misunderstanding."

"You can go but you stay gone," John continued. "If you go you can't come back. You won't be apart of this family." The small smile on Sam's face vanished to be replaced with a glare. Dean's face was unreadable. For the first time he didn't know what his oldest was thinking.

"Dad you can't be serious," Sam said. He was pale and trembling from the hurt and anger.

"If you go, you stay gone." John watched his youngest. His anger was replaced with something John couldn't identify. He was sure that Sam would choose family over school. He didn't expect him to march to his room, pack his bag and leave. The whole time Dean stood in the doorway staring at his brother. The last thing he heard his youngest say before he walked in to the night was "I'll miss you guys."

As soon as his youngest left, Dean got into his car and left John alone. John, hating the quiet house, went to the nearest bar to get drunk. As soon as he entered he heard the god-awful song.

_Well, he came home from college just the other day  
So much like a man I just had to say  
"Son, I'm proud of you, can you sit for a while?"  
He shook his head and said with a smile  
"What I'd really like, Dad, is to borrow the car keys  
See you later, can I have them please?"_

He bit back a growl and took a seat at the bar. He ordered shots of whiskey, after shots of whiskey. By the time he was plesently drunk the bar tender finally started talking to him.

"So what brings you in today?"

"I just lost both my boys," was John's reply. The bar tender gave him another shot as he drank his tears away.

* * *

The last time John Winchester heard the song that seemed to haunt him he was a ghost. Well more of a guardian spirit watching over both his sons. It was just him and Sam standing where his funeral pyre once was. All that remained was a stone with his name on it and a lot of ash. It was early morning and the forest, which surrounded his grave, was silent. Sam was silent also, as he looked at the grave marker. The impala was running, it's radio turned on. John watched his youngest. And for that moment, the whole world seemed to hold its breath. The silence was shattered by Sam's voice.

"Hey, dad. I finally killed her. The bitch who brought Dean to Hell. I finally killed her. Dean hates me because it. Her death was the final seal to Lucifer's cage. I feel guilty about freeing Lucifer but I can't seem to regret doing it. I would do the same thing over again if I had to," Sam said to the grave. John was sure that Sam had no idea that he was watching over him. As a spirit he felt guilt gnaw at him. He had helped lead his son down this destructive path.

"Are you proud of me dad? After everything I did? Even if I did damn the world, did I do anything right?" Sam asked. John placed a ghostly hand on his son's shoulder. He wanted Sam to know that yes he was proud, sad but proud. In the background came the music from the radio.

_I've long since retired, my son's moved away  
I called him up just the other day  
I said, "I'd like to see you if you don't mind"  
He said, "I'd love to, Dad, if I can find the time  
You see my new job's a hassle and kids have the flu  
But it's sure nice talking to you, Dad  
It's been sure nice talking to you"_

_And as I hung up the phone it occurred to me_  
_He'd grown up just like me_  
_My boy was just like me_

_And the cat's in the cradle and the silver spoon_  
_Little boy blue and the man on the moon_  
_When you comin' home son?_  
_I don't know when, but we'll get together then son_  
_You know we'll have a good time then_

The damned song was right. His son was just like him and John wished he wasn't.

* * *

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Keep on Reading

Fatcat


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